


It truly is a rightful vengeance

by goldleaves



Series: Songs of Salt [1]
Category: Fairy Tales & Related Fandoms
Genre: Attempted Murder, Cannibalism (Implied), Drowning, F/F, F/M, Gen, Mermaids, Misogyny, Murder, Original Character(s), Original Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldleaves/pseuds/goldleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>screaming-till-im-numb:</p><p>  <b>I want someone to write a book where Mermaids are the women thrown off ships when the sailors got afraid because having a woman on the boat is bad luck. And as they sink to the bottom legs tied together they change slowly until they can breath, until they can use their tied up legs to swim. And they drown sailors in revenge, luring them in by singing in their husky voices still stinging from the salt water they breathed.</b></p><p> </p><p>  <i>"She didn't bother to watch him fall to the depths, already turning and heading to the surface to seek her revenge, and to satisfy the new hunger that settled in her stomach for death and the bright red blood of superstitious sailors. She was Yaishara Lhal'Yakir, daughter of Vatharin, legendary warrior of the Hisomi people, and she would not be defeated ever again."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	It truly is a rightful vengeance

Her arms hurt, as did her shoulders. She could feel the rope digging into her skin, a bitter pain that matched the sheer terror as she descended into the darkness. Terror and anger, that's all she felt as she went further and further into the depths of the cold sea. Her lungs were burning for air, desperately trying to resist the urge to open her mouth, her eyes stinging from the salt around her until suddenly she couldn't any more. And with a final gasp, water flooded into her mouth, and licked the insides of her throat like fire. Burning, and consuming, numbing as her eyes slid closed and she continued to fall into the darkness.

It was a silly superstition, she had thought when she had first boarded the _Odesus_ at Carinthe to cross the Great Inland Sea, that of women being aboard ships were bad luck. She had grown up with tales of the Hisomi people traversing the seas with ships manned with both men and women, conquering the western lands with swords and ships and determination. Her father had regaled her with these stories, sitting on the edge of the ornamental pond in the southern garden of their home, he had told her to be proud of her heritage, and to be aware of how fortunate she had been to be born into such a culture, that others weren't so accepting of women walking without veils, or even being in public at all. As a child, she had listened to his stories with fervour; thinking that whatever he said must be true, for he was her father, a great warrior and leader in his own right, a living legend that crushed a rebellion while caring for his newborn child and mourning his beloved wife's death. As she grew older, and was taken under the wings of her female cousins and her aunt, she had begun to realise that her father wasn't the perfect man she had always thought him to be. She had realised that perhaps he was more concerned with protecting her then letting her live her life. She doubted him. She should not have.

When she had announced that she would be crossing the Great Inland Sea, to visit her mothers family in Aspasea, her father had insisted on accompanying her, but she had refused. They had fought, like father and daughter had not fought before, and she had finally won the right to travel on her own when she had told him that she was old enough, that she didn't need him to protect her any more. His face after she had said that was sad, like he had aged ten years in only a moment, and with a whispered voice he had agreed. Standing outside of the house, her belongings packed and placed on the rickshaw that would carrying her to the local town, from which she would get ship to carry her down river to Carinthe, her father stood bowed, grief evident in every line on his face. He had clasped her to him for a moment before removing herself, not looking into his eyes as they fell even more, and he had whispered to her to be careful, to remember what he had told her as a child. She had laughed, and smiled and indulgently agreed.

The journey to Carinthe had been fine, peaceful even. The ship she had boarded to carry her down the Sanan river was run by a female captain, Kesa and her partner, Finekiia, both women exotic with their pale skin and bright hair, much different to her own. They had spoken with a musical accent on their tongue and had provided her with great company on the two week long journey to the coast. She entered Carinthe with two new friends, a new knowledge of the Janik people who came from so far north that they had no knowledge of the Great Inland Sea, only of an ocean dark and endless, hundreds of tiny islands in long strands that dotted the emptiness of the waters, and their only view of the south was the very edge of the Nakalara desert. A desert that she knew extended for three years in its thinnest part. Why the two had been so far south from their native home, they had not told her, but they had given her a list of recommendations for trust-worthy captains that would take her across the Great Inland Sea. Arriving in the busy port city, the largest on the north coast of the sea, she had been amazed at its size, towers and houses, covering the hills and land for miles in every direction, unable to see its end, or its true extent. Installed in an Inn that had also been recommended to her by the Captain, that was close enough to the docks to hear the news of the postings and voyages, but far enough not to be affected by the rough nature of the workers or the riots that broke out nearly every day, with the help of the Innkeeper's wife, she enquired after each and every captain on the list she had been given. None were in port, in fact the last of them had sailed but a week before her arrival and still had several months before he would even make the return journey. Counting her purse, she knew she hadn't enough to wait for that long, so she gleaned a list of captains that were taking passengers from the Innkeepers wife: Mrs Ionha, and applied to each of them. After their responses and a meeting with them, attended by Mrs. Ionha she accepted the invitation of a Captain Rikley for travel three days later, leaving a letter for her father with the Innkeeper to send north at the earliest convenience.

The _Odesus_ was a fine looking ship, from what little she knew of ships, her father had attempted to teach her but her cousins and aunt had pulled her away to thoughts of fabrics and dyeing, Boarding the ship, she hadn't noticed the looks of disdain from the crew, nor the mutterings of ill luck. She had forgotten the superstitions of sailors on the Great Inland Sea, they weren't Hisomi, they did not believe in women sailors or women warriors, and they certainly didn't want her aboard the ship. In the first six weeks of travel across the sea, though the weather had been pleasant, the wind strong and all her attempt to be cordial and welcoming, the crew, and captain shunned her. She had thought the captain to be charming and kind from her first meeting in the Inn's parlour, but she saw none of that during those weeks. It wasn't that he was cruel, just absent. All of her attempts at friendliness rebuffed, she kept to her cabin. Writing notes on her journey so far, committing memories of Kesa and Finekiia to paper, illustrated with exotic designs that had been so evident on their ship and clothing. It was in the seventh week of the journey that the weather grew worse and worse, and she began to dread the few moments she left her cabin, for the mutterings of the crew grew louder and louder, and more angry at her. Two and a half weeks later, and violent storm after violent storm, each getting progressively worse, she was woken by the bang of her cabin door slamming open and the feel of calloused hands on her arms as she was dragged from her bed by the Captain and his first mate. They tied rope around her torso, her arms pulled behind her back and attached her own trunk to the end. As she stood on the edge of the ship, feeling the cold wind batter her, the rain having plastered her sleeping gown to her shivering body, and her hair soaked and tangled she couldn't help but cry. Cry in fear, and cry in anger.

Her feet were cold and almost numb but she could feel the wood underneath her feet, her toes digging into the planks harshly in attempt to get some grip, as the sailors converged around her. They carried torches, covered but burning strong, a bright light in the dark night, and they were praying to Gods she had never heard of in tongues she had never heard spoken before. Seemingly finished, the captain turned her around and without a single word pushed her off the edge of the ship and into the sea below, and her tears mixed with the salt water around her as her fury matched the fury of the waves that had buffeted the ship for days. She was pulled from the darkness, and from her thoughts by soft, gentle hands on her face, and more tugging on her rope bindings.

"What is your name?" said the one that held her face, eyes blue and hair a flash of red like the flames that she had seen on deck moments before her fall.

"Yaishara" she said, feeling the oddity of speaking underwater, even as her nightgown was removed by others to reveal a long fish tail of jet black.

" _Rightful Vengeance_ " the red head said, and she nodded acknowledging the meaning of her name, bestowed upon her by her father. It had been meant that her life was a rightful vengeance against the death and loss of her mother, that she had stayed strong, but underneath that sea, in the darkness it took its own form. She owned her own name.

"Come sister, let us help you take your vengeance" the red head, who introduced herself as Nasita said, as the dozen others around her agreed with nods and cheers. "We will follow you"

"I do not know the way"

Nasita laid her hand upon her heart "You will know the way here" and then she moved it up to her throat, cradling it delicately, "and here. Do not doubt yourself, we are strong here, we are the masters of this place"

She nodded, and with a flick of her tail she was shooting towards the surface, her heart and the rage within it leading her back towards the _Odesus_ , behind her she could hear the flap of other tails, and the increasing swelling of song, not noticing until they reached the surface that it was her own voice leading the song. Voices crashing with the thunder and the roar of the waves, they lured one after another to their deaths, some entrancing the sailors to lean down into the water themselves, while other clambering up onto the ships sides to attack them directly, taking great chunks out of their torsos and drinking great gulps of red blood like it was her fathers' prized wine.

She stayed in the water, watching the blood mix with the sea water and turn it red, much in the way that dye had mixed with water swirling and coiling all the times she had spent in the dye workshops learning and mastering her craft. All those times she had been careful not to let her hands touch the coloured water for fear of staining, but now she relished in the thought of the possibility that her skin might be stained, even if for only a moment with this glorious red. Bobbing in the water, her voice lifted in glorious song watching the Odesus crumble and burn, as screams and laughter pierced the air, she grieved for her father. He would get the letter from Carinthe, and assume she was still alive, until he received one from her mothers family saying she hadn't arrived, he would investigate and find out the truth and his old, already weakened heart would break further.

As she spotted a familiar figure falling into the red water, she pushed away all thoughts of the past and future and sped forward, claiming the captains lips with a bruising kiss and she held his arms tightly behind him, much like the ropes had bound her. And then she watched, as they descended deeper and deeper into the darkness how his eyes flickered from pure lust and entrancement to fear and desperation. It felt good to see that fear, to feel the trembling of his body against hers and when they were deep enough, she released his lips and watched as the entrancement faded. She watched as he struggled, his eyes wide and his mouth gasping for air. He tried to break free, but her newly stronger grip kept him tight, and he went limp, his eyes clouding and she let finally let him go. She didn't bother to watch him fall to the depths, already turning and heading to the surface to seek her revenge, and to satisfy the new hunger that settled in her stomach for death and the bright red blood of superstitious sailors. She was Yaishara Lhal'Yakir, daughter of Vatharin, legendary warrior of the Hisomi people, and she would not be defeated ever again.


End file.
